


I'm Here

by swanprincess



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 06:44:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanprincess/pseuds/swanprincess
Summary: Gendry still has nightmares revolved around the rumors he heard about Arya after she was kidnapped by the Hound.





	I'm Here

_Lady Arya of House Stark is to be married._ The words echoed in Gendry’s head, sending a wave of numbness through his body. _Married to the Bastard of the Dreadfort._ The name of the groom had made it so much worse. Arya was brave and fierce, but he would keep her locked up in his bedchamber for the rest of her life, however short that may be. Locked in the ruins of Winterfell, a place that Arya had told him about with a sad smile playing at her lips. The Bastard of Bolton had an army, and Arya was still just a girl. He had starved his first wife to death, raped and killed who knows how many girls, and now he had Arya. A buzzing grew in Gendry’s ears, and the words of the men discussing the horrific fate of the little girl Gendry once knew became nonsense. The light of the sun disappeared, leaving only darkness behind.

No. No. Nononononono. If he had stopped her from running off that last time, if he had caught her, he could have saved her from this. He had run as fast as he could after the Hound’s horse, run until he couldn't run anymore, but it was no use.

 _Do you know what dogs do to wolves?_ He had overheard one of the brotherhood say to another. Gendry had turned on the man in a rage, imagining this man was the Hound, that he was the one who had stolen Arya. It had taken four men to pull Gendry off of the man, and not until after his face was unrecognizably swollen and bloody. Harwin was the only company that Gendry could abide, the only other one who knew how bleak the world had become without the spirited, angry little girl they had both loved.

 _Do you know what dogs do to wolves?_ They return them to the Lannisters, handed them over to their father’s enemies so they can be given as gifts to monsters. Whatever dogs did to wolves, it couldn’t be worse than what _people_ did to wolves, what cruel bastards did. And so Gendry decided to go after her, to save her or die trying. He wasn’t sure how long it took him to get to Winterfell, days or weeks or months. What he found when he got there nearly destroyed him. He could hear the screams almost before he got to the castle, her shrieks of pain and fear. He ran towards the castle, moving slower than he ever had before, and it felt like centuries before he broke through the gates, running up to the tower her screams were emanating from. No guards blocked Gendry’s path, no serving maids stumbled into his way, and soon all that stood between him and the screaming girl was a doorway and a man. _The bastard._ Gendry thought. The last thing he saw was Arya’s frightened face, streaked with blood.

* * *

 

Gendry jolted awake, sitting bolt upright. He was sweating, despite the chill in the air. As he gasped for breath, he looked over to the small body lying beside him. She was already awake, staring at him with those big grey eyes.

“You had the dream again.” She wasn’t asking, but he nodded anyways. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his cheek. “I’m here Gendry. I’m okay. I’m alive. He never had me.”

It had been years since Arya had been carried off by the Hound. Years since Anguy had found her in the Saltpans and brought her back, bruised but otherwise unhurt, after she had left Clegane to die of his wounds in the woods. Years since the rumor that Arya had married the Bastard of Dreadfort had been passed around the camp of the Brotherhood, a rumor that had filled Gendry with fear and nausea until he looked down to see the subject of the rumor sitting beside him, covered in dirt and bruises and certainly not on her way to marry some lord. And through those years Arya had stayed beside him, first as a friend, and later as something more, comforting him every time he awoke from the nightmare that could’ve been a reality.

Gendry crushed Arya’s small body to his, because he needed to feel her, to know that she was real, and she clung to him just as tightly. Gendry wasn’t the only one with nightmares. Nightmares that could frighten you so much you stayed awake as long as you could. Nightmares about what had happened to them, what could happen to them. Because the night is dark and full of terrors, but they felt safe in each other’s arms.

Arya pressed hot kisses against Gendry’s neck, over his shoulder, nipping at the skin over his collarbone. Gendry needed those bruises as much as he needed the bruises he earned sparring, needed to know that she had been there and she would be back, just as he needed to know that they were fighting their hardest to survive.

“I’m here.” She told him desperately, undoing the knots on his small clothes. “I’ll always be here.” She promised, wriggling out of her own and straddling him. He skimmed his hands over her familiar curves, cupping her breast in one hand, the fingers of the other pressing into her hip bone, hard enough to leave light bruises, to remind her that he was here too, that he needed her. Gendry quietly moaned her name as she lowered herself onto him, and he dipped his head to kiss her small breasts. He caught a pink nipple in his mouth, flushing at the gasp she let out when he flicked his tongue over the hard bud.

Gendry pressed his lips to Arya’s neck, and could feel her pulse beating rapidly. He moved a calloused hand between them, his thumb rubbing small circles over her clit. It wasn’t long before she came undone, her nails digging into his back as she cried out his name, her wet heat pulsing around him, causing his own release. He laid back down while still inside her, pulling her with him so she was lying completely on top of him, her head resting on his chest.

Lying with her like this, listening to her breathing slow and steady as he rubbed soothing circles on her back, Gendry was not afraid to drift off to sleep again. Because she was here, Arya was here, and _I’m here_ meant _I love you_.


End file.
